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“Mmm. Well her boobs looked great in that dress. She’s gorgeous.” She’s not saying it with malice. I think this girl just shares whatever thoughts pop into her head. I like it.
“So are you.”
Her eyes flick from the money she’s counting to my gaze. “Thanks.” I earn half a smile for that. She’s going to be hard to crack. It’s like she shares all her thoughts freely, but I have no idea what the fuck she’s actually thinking.
“Looks like you do well here.”
“Not bad.” She has at least a couple hundred in cash in front of her.
“It’d be even better if assholes like Todd actually tipped.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, he’s a dick who can’t take a hint that I'm not interested, or that no one is for that matter.”
“You handled it better than I would have. I wanted to punch him.”
“Why didn’t you?” She stops counting again and looks up.
I hold her gaze. “You don’t seem like the type to want someone swooping in to save you.”
She doesn’t say anything, but I swear I see a glimmer of appreciation in her bright blue eyes. Is she just a challenge to me, or do I genuinely want to figure out what makes this girl tick?
The ball is in her court now if she figures out what my note means.
“Well, I’ll let you finish up here. I’ll see you later, Lexy.”
“Bye, Troy.”
As I push through the exit, I look back to see her staring down at my note again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LEXY
Thisistotallynota big deal. I was going to bars by myself for a couple years before Maci was here, and I’ve been doing it since she left two months ago too. 3rd Base LA has been one of my go-to places for a while. They have the best happy hour and the local beer I like on tap. It’s surprising I haven’t run into Troy more since Vegas. Maybe we have the same work schedule.
I find an empty stool at the sleek white bar, not knowing whether Troy is bartending or serving tonight. Maybe he’s not even working. I’m only assuming he is since he’s already had two nights off this week–New Year’s Eve and when he came into my work two nights ago. I adjust myself on the hard black plastic chair, setting my red heart sunglasses on the bar.
“What the fuck happened to your phone case?” He startles me, pulling my phone from my hands to examine it.
“Yeaaaah, it’s seen better days.” I cringe. The screen protector is cracked, and the case has a chunk missing from the side from when it flung out of the back pocket of my shorts when I was getting ice one day, and then it got caught on the drain grate. Not my best bartending moment.
“It’s on its last leg for sure.” He laughs.
I shrug. “I’ll get a new one eventually.”
“Sooooo. What can I get you?” He holds up his hand. “No, wait, let me guess.”
I stare at him. He looks sexy as hell in his dark blue jeans and untucked black button up shirt, like the first time I saw him.
“You strike me as a beer girl.”
“You think you know me already, don’t you?” I deadpan. He smiles. It reaches all the way to his gray-blue eyes. Do not get lost in them.
“Nah. I’m just good at my job too.” He shoots me a wink. “What do you like?”
“Mango Cart, please.” It’s one of the reasons I come to this specific bar. It’s one of the few that have it on tap.
He returns with my beer, slinging a coaster to the space in front of me before setting it down. “Wouldn’t have guessed this. Seems a little too mellow for you.”
